Hatred was a terrible thing and this is what his father and Wes felt for Becky. What could she have done to rile them? So, her morals might have been questionable. She had obviously made mistakes, but who hadn’t? He who is without sin, let him cast the first stone. He recalled the bible passage. Ma used to take him to church with her most Sundays. Jase had only been a baby when she died. Pa became bitter at the hand fate dealt him. Complained that he had been robbed of the chance to sire more sons and create a dynasty.
How was Becky faring now? He shuddered. With all those men. Would they have violated her? Vomit rose up into his throat, and he let it spew out of his mouth on to the ground.
Stars popped up in the black sky. The mournful howl of a coyote or maybe a wild dog, echoed in the stillness before fading away. He could just about kill for a whiskey.
***
At daybreak Ryan was up and preparing to set off on the last leg of his journey. A couple of hours ride if his calculations proved correct. If they were wrong, Becky was doomed.
He took a few swigs out of his canteen then poured most of the remaining water into his hat to give the horse a drink. “We’ll both be in trouble.” He patted Brandy’s neck. “If I don’t find any clean water.”
He mounted and rode off. The sun started climbing up over the distant mountain, another hot day by the looks of it.
A shot rang out, followed by a sharp pain in his head, then the sensation of flying through the air. Ryan woke up to find himself slumped in the saddle, his hands tied around the horse’s neck so he couldn’t move. The sun hurt his eyes, his head throbbed. Through wavering vision, his saw a lone horseman dragging Brandy behind his own mount. How in tarnation had he let this varmint get the jump on him?
Ryan drifted in and out of consciousness. Movements, then suddenly hitting the dirt. He groaned, and tried to open his eyes, but the world spun.
“You’re awake?” Becky hovered over him. He was dreaming, of course he was. Maybe he was dead and had met up with her in heaven. He couldn’t remember dying though.
Her hand caressed his cheek. That felt real enough. His eyelids creaked open.
“Can you hear me, Ryan?”
Warm moisture dropped on to his cheek, and he realized it was Becky’s tears. He wasn’t dead.
“Please, don’t die on me,” she pleaded.
“I won’t.” His voice was so husky and rough he didn’t recognize it, but somehow knew the words had come out of his mouth.
He opened his eyes again and tried to focus on his surroundings. He lay on a dirt floor in a dilapidated shack. Becky held a canteen to his dry lips and he gulped the water down.
“Those varmints shot you. How could you let them get the drop on you like that? She scolded him, yet her eyes were full of tenderness and concern.
“I don’t know, must be slowing up in my old age.” He groaned as he struggled to sit up. “Hell-fire, I’ve got the worst headache.” Putting his hands up, he felt a bandage under his fingertips.
“I tore a piece off my petticoat to bandage you up and stop the bleeding. A bullet has grazed the side of your head. Another fraction of an inch and you’d be dead.”
She stared into his face without speaking for a moment. “I don’t know what I would have done if they’d killed you.” Her lips trembled. “Where are the others?”
She looked so sad and hopeless he hated having to hurt her. He had always believed an unpalatable truth was better than a lie. “They refused to come.”
“All of them?” Her eyes darkened with anguish.
“Yes,” he said grimly. “Out of forty men, only my deputies, Jase, and two others offered to come with me.”
“They hate me that much?”
She started to sob, so he wrapped his arms around her. Thank goodness they had untied him before they tossed him in here. The place was primitive, falling apart. He tightened his grip on her, liking the feel of her body so close to his.
“If we get out of this mess, we’ll get hitched, head for Montana and buy a spread of our own. Would you like that?”
She nodded.
He told her the rest of the story. No point letting her have any illusions about her future with Wes and Lucinda.
The sobs turned into wails of distress. Her slender body shook.
“I’m sorry, darlin’, I wouldn’t hurt you for the world, but I couldn’t give you false hope of reconciliation if we get away from here.”
“I…I sacrificed myself for her, and she did nothing to try and persuade Wes to help?”
“No, I had to threaten her to get any information. All she was worried about was how hungry she was, and the fact that her nails were dirty and broken. As for Wes, I couldn’t believe any man with an ounce of compassion wouldn’t have told the men in the posse to continue the search. He also refused to pay the ransom.”
It tore at his guts having to tell her of their despicable behavior, but he couldn’t lie, not to the woman he loved. Loved? Where did that come from? He didn’t know whether he was capable of such an emotion, not after the wayward life he had led for so long.
***
Becky had been shocked when the outlaws threw Ryan into the hut with her. He had dropped like a stone on the ground and lay there, so white and still, she feared he was dead. She had ripped material from her petticoat and used water from the canteen the outlaws had left with her, to soak the cloth so as to clear away the dirt and congealed blood. She had bandaged the wound with another strip from her petticoat.
“What are we going to do? If they don’t get the ransom they’ll kill us. Oh, Ryan.” She held his hand. “Why did you come here on your own? They’ll kill you now.”
“Help me up.”
She grabbed his arm to steady him as he struggled to rise. Even in the dimness he looked haggard. Black stubble covered his jaw and chin, and dirt streaked his face.
Becky had never felt so filthy, and she feared she would be smelly also. The air in the shack would be foul. She had scratched a hole in the ground when she needed to relieve herself, but with only a spoon and her fingers, she couldn’t dig a deep hole.
What’s wrong with you, you foolish woman? Worrying about such things when a bullet in the head was the best she could hope for.
Ryan had risked his life coming here when his chances of helping her escape were negligible. He must have known this, yet he came anyway. Warmth spread through her because he truly cared. She loved him, and before they died she would tell him.
He ran his hand along the back wall. “This wall backs on to the canyon doesn’t it?”
“Yes, I poked at some of the rotting timber and hit rock. I haven’t had much to do except try to find a way to escape from here.”
She heard the bolt on the door sliding back and Ryan must have heard it also, as he sat down and leaned against the side wall holding his head and groaning.
Cal had still not returned. As he was supposed to return with the ransom, if he didn’t show up, or came back empty handed, they would kill her and Ryan. She didn’t doubt that for a moment.
The man who entered was masked, and with his hat pulled down low, she could only see his icy, expressionless eyes. Two mugs of coffee, but only one plate of beans. He thrust the food at her and stomped off without saying a word.
Ryan drank his coffee in a few gulps. Becky sipped hers. It wasn’t particularly hot or palatable, but better than nothing. The beans were cold, and they had to share the one spoon.
“When do they come back for the dishes?
“They take this lot away when they bring in the next meal,” she said.
“Sonofabitch, it doesn’t give us much time.” He swung to his feet and stepped over to the back wall. “I’ll try to pull a few of these boards off so I can see what’s behind them.”
He started tapping against the wood. “Ah, just as I thought. I think there’s an opening at the back here.” Carefully he pulled a board off.
Becky dashed over to help him, and peered into a semi-darkened
hole. Ryan stretched his arm in. “It’s quite a large opening. This area would be riddled with caves and caverns. Careful, we don’t want to break the boards. We’ll loosen them but leave them on, then it will only be a matter of giving them a shove when we’re ready to get the hell out of here.”
Working together, it didn’t take long to loosen enough boards to let them pass through when the time came.
“I think we should leave in the morning after we’ve eaten,” he said. “Better to start off with food in our bellies, because who knows how long it will be before we eat again. We’ll conserve the water in the canteen, too.”
“Do you think this will work?” she asked tremulously. She had felt so weary and defeated before. Now with Ryan here, hope surged in her breast.
He sat on the ground and pulled her down next to him. Wrapping his arms around her shoulders, he held her close, and she leaned against him. He felt strong and warm. They would get away. She had to believe that.
“Where do you think the cave leads?” she asked.
“No idea. It could even be a tunnel. Could go for miles if it was once an underground stream.”
“What if we don’t find a way out?”
“We will. Once we’re back in civilization you’re going to marry me, aren’t you? We’ll go to Montana and buy ourselves a ranch. Leave all the bitterness and nastiness behind us. I’ll miss Jase. Maybe I’ll make contact with him after a while, and we could meet up with my father, too.”
“I never want to see your father again.”
“Becky! He’s not that bad. I know he can be disagreeable sometimes.
“I don’t want to see him ever.” Ryan had told her the unpalatable truth about Lucinda and Wes. Now it was her turn to tell him her dark secret. If they were to ever have a happy future together, she could no longer carry the burden tainting her life for the past four years.
“I’ve got something to tell you.” She shuddered. “You may not want to marry me after you hear it, but I can’t carry this secret around anymore. I’ll tell you why your father hates me.”
“All right. What made him hate you?”
“Vaughan wanted to marry me.”
“What!”
A shudder shook her body. Over four years and his behavior still made her feel ill, and somehow defiled. Her flesh crawled.
“He was estranged from you and wanted more than one son.”
“It’s a lie.” He looked stricken, not a vestige of color remained in his face.
“I’m telling you the truth. Wes encouraged it because he wanted the two ranches to be joined.” She told him about Mrs. Parson’s, their housekeeper, stripping her naked on Wes’ orders. Parading her in front of Vaughan like a slave waiting to be auctioned.
When the whole sordid story was finished, his gasp of shock echoed in the stillness.
“When I refused to be Vaughan’s brood mare, Wes dragged me out of the house, tied me up in the barn and beat me. A day after this happened Mrs. Parsons died, so instead of kicking me out, he let me stay so I could keep house for him.”
An ominous silence took over the shack.
“You don’t believe me.” Her shoulders slumped. “I feared you wouldn’t. No-one else would have believed me either, that’s why I never spoke of it. I tried to forget what happened. To revenge themselves on me they discreetly let it be known I was a whore.”
“I…I. Oh, Becky.” He hugged her tight. “I do believe you. If our paths ever cross again, I’ll shoot him and Wes. I swear it.”
She started crying, and once she started she couldn’t stop. The tears fell. Years of despising herself for what had happened, the degradation and fear poured out. When finally, it stopped, she was spent.
“Does Jase know?” he asked.
“I never told anyone, I was too ashamed.”
“Ashamed! What in tarnation are you saying? The shame was all theirs. I’ll make it up to you, Becky I swear it. Don’t for a moment think I’m like him, because I’m not. Never have been and never will be. I’m not saying I’m perfect.” He gave a deprecating laugh. “I would never do anything so vile. To keep the hatred and vendetta against you going for all these years is beyond my comprehension.”
They lapsed into silence.
“I was scared of you as a child,” she said suddenly.
“Why? As I remember it, you were a cheeky little brat.”
“You were so grim looking then, yet I feel so, so safe with you now.”
“You are safe sweet Becky.” He moved slightly so he faced her. His lips touched hers in a feather-light caress. Suddenly he let out a groan and deepened the kiss.
Of their own volition her mouth opened to receive his thrusting tongue. Shafts of excitement shot through her body. She had never realized kissing could be so good.
Finally, he pulled back and they both gasped for breath.
“Once we get out of here, we’ll be darn quick about getting hitched. I want you, Becky. I want you more desperately than any woman I have ever known.”
“I didn’t want you to stop,” she whispered, suddenly feeling shy after her wanton behavior.
“Believe me.” He ran a fingertip across her lips. “It was hard to stop, but I didn’t want us to make love for the first time in this filthy hovel.
Becky was surprised at this gentle, considerate side of him. She had always thought of him as being ruthless and tough. She felt close to him here, but would the feeling remain once they escaped? Out in the world would he return to being the tough lawman?
Chapter Eight
Saturday morning. A gusty wind buffeted the shack, driving dust through the cracks in the walls.
Ryan had loosened every board in readiness for them to slip into the cavernous hole. Where it led they had no idea. A commotion outside had them stepping over to the door.
“Pa’s dead,” Cal yelled. “Wes Carstairs refuses to pay the ransom.”
“Goddam sonofabitch,” one of the men snarled. “Were ya followed?”
Amidst the cussing, Becky heard Cal say. “I’m gonna kill her.”
“We’ve got the sheriff as well,” another said.
“Get some of that dynamite we found and blow them to smithereens,” another voice growled.
“I wanna do it,” Cal shouted. “They killed Pa.”
“We have to get out of here now,” Ryan said, grabbing Becky’s hand. They rushed to the back of the shack, desperately ripping at the boards. He pushed her through the gap. She stumbled and fell to her knees. He dived in and landed on top of her. Sure footed as a cat he rolled off her, jumped to his feet, dragging her upright, and dashed to the back of the cavern. It appeared to open up into a narrow tunnel.
A massive explosion threw them against the rock wall. The noise of the blast almost deafened Becky. Her mouth filled with dust. A low rumbling noise was followed by crashing rocks.
“Sonofabitch, part of the wall must have caved in.”
“We’re entombed,” she shrilled, her nerves shredded by the explosion and days of incarceration.
“No, there will be another entrance. Come on, darlin’. You’re safe, I won’t let anything hurt you.” His words sounded distorted, but he held her close, wrapping his arms around her. She buried her face in the warmth and strength of his chest.
“I wish you hadn’t seen me in such a filthy state.”
He burst out laughing. “So like a woman. We beat death by mere inches and all you can worry about is your appearance.” He stepped back. “Come on let’s take a look around. There must be an opening somewhere, otherwise it would be pitch black. Stay here and I’ll check the front first, see how the shack and surrounds fared.”
“Be careful, my love.” She whispered the last two words. She was beginning to suspect that even as a child she had harbored feelings for Ryan. It would explain why she acted so cheeky and brattish in front of him. She had wanted him to notice her, like her even, only it had backfired, made him dislike her.
After he left Blackwood she a
lways hoped he would return. As the years passed and he stayed away, she had gradually started to have feelings for Jase. After Vaughan turned on her she became even more dependent on Jase. Oh, she had known he was weak and shallow, spoilt outrageously by his father. The only thing he ever defied his father over was his friendship with her. If she had let him have his way with her, would he have cast her aside, even if Lucinda hadn’t come on the scene?
“Dammit,” Ryan’s snarl interrupted her musing. “There’s a mountain of rock blocking the entrance. We’ll never get through that way. It’s the passageway or nothing.”
They set off, the walls of the passage soared upward for forty feet or more. In some places the roof was rock, in other places dried roots and compacted dirt formed an impenetrable barrier, but slivers of sunlight filtered through.
“This must have been part of a canyon before there was a landslide,” Ryan said as she plodded along behind him. The passage twisted and turned, the incline becoming quite steep in places. They climbed over heaps of small rocks which slowed them down even more.
They stopped for a rest at a spot where water dripped down the wall, disappearing into rocks beneath their feet. Ryan put his finger out and caught a droplet.
“Nice and cold,” he said after tasting it. “We’ll rest here for a while and see if we can get enough water to quench our thirst.”
“If I tore material from my petticoat we could let the water soak into it?”
“Good idea. I doubt I would have thought of that.”
She lifted her skirt, tore a wide strip off her petticoat and laid it on clean looking rocks to enable the drips to soak in. Once it became soaked they could suck the moisture out.
Ryan placed his tongue against the wall and licked at the droplets. She did the same. The icy coldness eased the dryness of her throat.
“Here.” He pulled out a piece of beef jerky and broke it in half.” We’ll have to ration everything,” he said.
She had never particularly liked jerky, but now was no time to be fussy. The air smelt foul and musty here, probably because of the dampness. She moved a little away from the wet area. “I need to relieve myself. I’ll go behind that pile of rocks near the crevice.”
The Sheriff's Outcast Bride Page 6